


A Place of Safety

by choctopus



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choctopus/pseuds/choctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Constance escapes her husband with the help of the queen and can't resist the temptation to take a little vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Place of Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Musketeers femslash week, with more than a hint of what I'm hoping for in series 2.

"Are you ready?" d'Artagnan said.

"I think so... Are you sure this is alright?" Constance replied, looking from d'Artagnan, to Aramis and back again.

"I put the word in for you myself Constance." said Aramis. "The queen is happy to have you, you'll have a little space to yourself and some occupation in the palace." He knocked at the door. It swung inward, revealing Her Majesty. Constance curtseyed as low as she could.

"Welcome, Madame Bonacieux. It's lovely to meet you at last, I've heard so much about you." The Queen said, taking Constance's hand, and leading her into her apartments. She dismissed Aramis and d'Artagnan with a graceful nod of her head as she closed the door behind them. Constance stood, awkwardly, trying to take in the room. It had been a long day, but the Queen of France's personal apartments were really not the place to let that catch up with her. Anne took both of Constance's hands.

"They told me what's been going on. We should be able to keep you safe and make sure you have some space here. And you can rest assured I have people keeping an eye on your husband. He won't be able to do anything stupid." Anne's composure slipped, and she pulled Constance into a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry you've had to go through this." She pulled back after a long moment and patted Constance's arm. "Now, collect yourself as best you can and I'll call for Monsieur Laporte, so we can arrange some occupation and a room for you."

"Thank you for doing this for me your Majesty. I can't begin to express how grateful I am." Constance curtseyed again. It seemed like the thing to do. The queen smiled.

"If you keep bobbing up and down like that you'll make us both seasick." Anne giggled. "You need only curtsey where necessary to keep up your cover. I'd like us to be friends." And with that she rang for Monsieur Laporte, and the arrangements were made. Constance was allocated a room in the servants quarters, and was to attend Her Majesty as a seamstress and chambermaid.

They became fast friends within two weeks. One week for Constance to find her feet in the palace, and one for them to begin swapping stories about the antics of the musketeers they seemed to have adopted. The queen found her new companion kind and courageous, and Constance learned that the queen's calm exterior hid a quick wit. They told one another secrets - Constance of baby Henry and the attempted coup, Anne of her feelings for Aramis (though not, it must be noted, the full truth of what happened in the convent).

* * *

 

It had been three months since Constance had arrived at the palace. She’d been out for the day, visiting her musketeers, and d’Artagnan had brought up the subject of her husband. It was just in passing, but Constance had realised that she’d barely thought about the man in weeks.

“Your Majesty.” She had said, when she entered the queen’s apartments at her accustomed time.

“How many times, you, of all people are allowed to dispense with the formalities when we’re alone. Please, Constance” Anne said, not looking up from her writing desk.

“Anne, sorry. I just wanted to ask… You said you’d set people to watching my husband?”

“Yes, just to make sure he didn’t try anything stupid.” Anne turned to look at Constance.

“I just realised, I haven’t really thought about him in weeks… is he… is he alright?”

“He’s still alive certainly, let me find the reports.” Anne rummaged among some papers in a desk drawer. “Ah, here we are. Do take a seat, Constance.” Constance obliged.

“So?” Anne cleared her throat as she scanned the page.

“He seems to have believed the story about you visiting your parents in the country. Since he never received word that you’d arrived, he assumes you were killed by bandits on the way… I’m afraid to say though, Constance - he has taken a mistress.” Constance sat, calmly. She thought for a moment, then said;

“So how surprised would you say he could be if I turned up again?”

“Why would you?” the queen looked confused.

“Not to go back, certainly.” Constance said. “I wish I could say there was a real reason but - just to upset him really. Unsettle him a bit.”

“Constance! It’s not like you to take such pleasure in other people’s discomfort.”

“Ohh, your majesty.” Constance reached out to take the queen’s hands. “With everything you know of how he treated me, and everything we’ve shared. Surely you can allow me just a little taste of vengeance?” Constance looked deep into the queen’s eyes, silently pleading with her.

“Ohhh, alright. Only if I get to come too!” Anne conceded. Constance’s eyes went wide.

“Oh oh oh, that... there’s so many possibilities! If you come along, will you have to be incognito?”

“On the way yes, but once we’re there I see no problem revealing who I am. It's not like anyone would believe him” Anne said. “What have you got in mind Constance? You’ve got a glint in your eye that concerns me.”

“I was just thinking, it’s quite a shock for your supposedly dead wife to turn up at the door, but think how much that’s multiplied by her being in the company of the queen when she does? He might die of shock!”

“Is that what you’re hoping for?”

“Not hoping, as such. I just wouldn’t mind.” Constance shrugged, trying to affect innocence. Anne stood, pulling Constance to her feet as she did. They embraced.

“I know how much he hurt you. Let’s see how much we can wind him up.” Anne said. “Just this once though, or we’re descending to his level; and you are so, so much better than that.” She kissed Constance on the cheek.

 

Monsieur Bonacieux found a musketeer stood outside his house. The man seemed familiar, but Bonacieux was lost as to his name.

“You have a visitor, Monsieur.” The musketeer said, stepping aside to let him in. What kind of visitor would leave a musketeer stood outside the house? Bonacieux wondered. Perhaps d’Artagnan, but why would he leave a guard? That didn’t make sense but it was the only likely possibility. Bonacieux stepped into his kitchen, and sat at his table was his supposedly dead wife and Anne of Austria, the Queen of France.

“Hello.” Constance said with a smile, as if her not being dead should be no surprise to him at all.

“Ah, Monsieur Bonacieux. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but that would be a lie.” Her Majesty said, rising from her seat. Bonacieux fainted.

When he came round, the musketeer who had been at the door was fanning his face with a letter.

“Ah, you’ve recovered!” The man said. “I suppose the shock of finding your dead wife and Her Majesty in your kitchen might do that to a man. Well, a man like you, anyway.” The musketeer grinned, coldly. “Aramis, by the way. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.” He held his hand out. Bonacieux shook it reflexively. He was lost. Nothing at all made sense any more. Aramis helped him up, and handed him the letter.

“This ought to go some way to explaining.” He said, doffed his hat, and swept out of the house. The letter bore the royal seal of Anne of Austria, and read:

_Monsieur Bonacieux, You’ll be glad to hear that your wife is well. On the other hand, she will never come anywhere near you. You may try to use your meager influence with the Cardinal to change this, but he has no power over me. Better you invest your energies into staying out of trouble, and being a better partner to your mistress than you were to your wife. You are being watched, and I will know if you fail._

 

Anne and Constance arrived back at the Louvre breathless with laughter.

“Did you see, did you… see when he fainted!” Constance said.

“Yes! He just… just went! WHUMP! On the floor.” Anne agreed. “And his face when he saw us! White as a sheet!” “Last time I saw a man look that horrified.” the queen said, “I was threatening to have him hanged!”

“Almost a shame you can’t have my husband hanged.”

“Constance. You’re better than that, remember? Besides, isn’t it better that he has to live with the knowledge that even the Queen of France thinks he’s a shit husband?” They had arrived back at Anne’s apartments, and she unlocked the door to guide Constance inside.

“That is pretty good.” Constance agreed. “You know, I think I’d like have a painting of the look on his face when he came in. Wouldn’t put it on my wall, just in a drawer or something so I could look at it when I was sad.” Anne was set off into a whole new fit of giggles by the idea, and Constance was carried along with it. Minutes passed and they were holding one another up, helpless with laughter until it faded, and they were left, in one another’s arms, almost cheek-to-cheek. Constance looked into the queen’s eyes, and could see only the woman, as if her royal status were a mask she had removed. Their heads tilted. Anne closed the gap between them. They kissed softly, both unsure if they were doing the right thing.

“Your Majesty.” Constance said gravely when they came up for air, “Is this… alright?”

“I… it’s alright with me.” Anne replied. “Is it alright with you?”

“Yes, it. It really is.” They kissed again, more certain now.

“Would you like to sleep in my bed tonight, Constance… with me?” Anne asked.

“What if someone comes in and finds us?”

“I’ll tell them you’re acting as bedmaid for me. It’s a cold night, no one will question it.” Constance considered for a moment.

“I’d love to.” She smiled. Anne grinned, took Constance by the hand and led the way through to her bedchamber. They helped one another undress, shedding skirts and corsetry until both stood in only their chemises. Tentatively, Constance slipped a hand around Anne’s waist. Anne came in close to her, wrapping her arms around Constance and exchanging another gentle kiss. They sank into the bed, running exploratory hands over the curves of one another’s bodies.

“It’s late.” Constance whispered, loath to break off for the sake of mere sleep but aware that it had been a very long day.

“Yes.” Anne looked sad as she ran her hand down Constance’s side one last time before pulling the blankets over them both. “In the morning, perhaps?”

“We’ll be better for the rest.” Constance said, with a wicked smile.


End file.
